


the brutal and the sublime

by Arabwel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Chris Argent, Anal Sex, Begging, Belts, Biting, Blood, Bondage, Bottom Peter Hale, Bruises, Chains, Claiming, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Electrocution, Erotic Electrostimulation, Finger Sucking, Knotting, Licking, M/M, Marking, Prostate Milking, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Scenting, Slut Shaming, The lighttaser doubles as a sex toy in this one, Verbal Humiliation, Werewolf Chris Argent, Whipping, by which I mean, kind of, mentions of gunplay, mentions of piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8785903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arabwel/pseuds/Arabwel
Summary: It starts soon after the final fight, after Scott bites a half-delirious Chris Argent and the last of the Argents wakes up with eyes of unnatural blue. It starts with Peter, thinking he is just going to mock the hunter about this little furry problem, ask him if he's planning on suicide any time soon and if he can watch, only to find himself face down in the dirt with Argent growling in his ear**Or, Chris is turned into a werewolf and claims Peter as his





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the amazing people on tumble and discord who made this fic happen <3
> 
> This fic is pretty brutal; please read the tags and I will gladly give further detail if needed. Also if you see anything I should tag please let me know

It starts soon after the final fight, after Scott bites a half-delirious Chris Argent and the last of the Argents wakes up with eyes of unnatural blue. 

It starts with Peter, thinking he is just going to mock the hunter about this little furry problem, ask him if he's planning on suicide any time soon and if he can watch, only to find himself face down in the dirt with Argent growling in his ear 

He struggles and snarls at Argent to _let go_ , to get off him while the hunter licks his neck, rubs his nose along the tender skin behind his ear and scents him. Those too-blunt, too-human teeth bite into his skin, hard enough to make it hurt, to make Peter cry out and shudder when he feels the skin break, feels the blood seeping out for Argent to lap up.

Peter's struggles become more frantic when he feels Argent’s cock hardening against his back, a deep curl of fear and heat building up at the pit of his belly. Argent’s teeth grow sharp when they nip along Peter's back, hips grinding down just to make Peter feel it, feel what the hunter wants. 

"Get off me, Argent!"

"Oh no, Peter. I am going to make sure you know your place," Argent practically growls, breath hot against Peter’s ear. 

Chris uses his new claws to rip through Peter's expensive belt and designer jeans, shredding the thick fabric and leaving thin trails of blood pearling on the pale skin of his hips. 

Even though Peter is struggling, Chris's nose is full of the scent of arousal. He can smell the precome welling up on the tip of Peter's dick, pinned between his body and the cold hard ground. The new sensory input from his wolf senses is almost overwhelming, the musky scent between Peter's legs ripe and heady, and he can't help it, he has to bury his face there, has to lick a broad stripe across Peter's twitching hole

Peter yelps, back arching, and tries to struggle away from Chris's probing tongue but all it gets him is Chris's hands on his hips, claws digging into skin. He gets yanked up on his knees to give the hunter-turned-wolf better access even as his face is pushed down into the dirt, arms trapped under his body.

"Gonna get you all wet," Chris pants against Peter's ass, beard brushing harshly against the tender skin. "Get you ready for my cock."

Peter cries out when Chris emphasizes his words with his teeth, nipping at the tender skin of Peter's asscheek with sharp fangs. He can't help it, he pushes his hips up, tries to get more of Chris's tongue on his hole, get something more than just his cock slapping wetly against his abs.  
Chris pulls back and Peter whimpers at the loss, fucking whimpers, only for Chris to growl at him to shush and put his mouth to a better use, two thick fingers pressing against Peter's lips, pressing down on his tongue.

Peter smirks around the invading digits and he hollows his cheeks, sucks on Chris's fingers like he's sucking cock, gets them wet and sloppy. It's thrilling to know Chris has enough control to pull his claws back, to let Peter wrap his tongue around fingers tipped with human-blunt nails before they’re withdrawn, leaving Peter's lips red and shiny as he shivers in anticipation, animal lust winning over anger. 

Chris's cock throbs against the zipper of his jeans when Peter arches his back and fucking _mewls_ when Chris's fingers sink into him, sink into that tight, inhumanly hot ass he's been craving for weeks, for months, for _years_. Peter's ass just swallows his fingers up, like the wolf can't wait to get fucked. "Cock hungry little slut," Chris spits out, using his free hand to undo his belt and fly.

Chris pulls his fingers out and Peter moans, tilting his hips back. "Dammit, Argent, stop teasing!"

If he could see Chris's grin he'd see teeth, sharp and feral as he spits on his hand and slicks his cock, pressing the fat head against Peter's twitching hole.

"You're the one who's been teasing, Peter," he growls as he presses slowly in, balancing himself with the hand pressing down on Peter's shoulder blades, pressing the wolf's face into the dirt again. "All those low v-necks and tight jeans, bending over and flaunting yourself like a slut. Just begging for someone to come and _take_ what you’re offering. "

Chris grits his teeth, just having the tip of his cock inside Peter is so good, the wolf's body running hot even as his ass clenches down, tight and slick. "Fuck, you're tight. I'm going to fucking ruin your tight little ass. Gonna fuck you till you're begging me to stop."

Peter shudders and gasps, "Bring it, Argent," voice breaking with every word. He tries to push his ass back, tries to get more of Argent's thick cock inside him, something more, just the tip stretching his hole not enough.

Chris growls and leans forward, teeth sinking into Peter's shoulder as his hips slam forward, burying him balls deep in the wolf. Peter bucks and wails under him, body clenching and rippling as the scent of blood hits the air. Chris fucks him hard, heedless of the wolf's pleasure, only intent on punishing, fucking, _claiming_ the mouthy wolf who's been taunting him for too long.

Peter is keening, a continuous high pitched sound escaping his bruised lips as he feebly tries to push back into Chris's punishing thrusts, tries to get Chris's cock to hit that one spot. He's hard and he knows Chris knows it, knows Chris can smell the arousal and just doesn't care.  
Or maybe he's wrong; he can feel a hot huff of breath against his neck as the hunter laughs.

"You're loving this. Loving being fucked like a bitch in heat."

Peter shudders at the words, a denial on the tip of his tongue, but a particularly brutal thrust punches the breath out of him, keeps him from protesting as he gasps and shudders. 

The air is heavy with the scent of sex and blood, of sweat and the precome beading against the tip of Peter's cock, smearing against his taut belly; Chris inhales deeply and growls, yanking Peter into a better position. He can feel himself getting close, can feel the heat pooling at the bottom of his spine, but he'll be damned if he comes before Peter begs.

"Beg for it," he growls, claws digging into Peter's hip, new rivulets of blood running down the pale skin. "Beg me.” And he doesn't know if he wants Peter to beg for him to stop or to fuck him harder, he just knows he wants to hear the broken pleas from those plush lips.

He’s not disappointed; the change in position has Peter’s eyes rolling back in his head, has Chris's cock brushing against his prostate with every stroke, has Peter fucking wailing because he's so damn close -

"Please," the word comes out as a breathless pant, "fuck, Chris- please- fuck me- "

Hearing Peter beg hits Chris right in the gut; a flash of heat rushes through his body and he's coming hard, his orgasm ripped out of him by Peter's heady submission. He swears as he floods the wolf's ass with come, his cock throbbing and - fuck, he can feel the base of his cock swelling, can feel a fucking _knot_ forming to lock him deep inside Peter's abused hole, lock his seed deep inside his bitch. Red-hot instinct surges inside him, dark and possessive. _Mine_. 

"Feel that," he pants into Peter's ear as the wolf whines and tries to struggle away, tries to pull off the painful stretch of Chris's knot filling his tender hole. "Feel my knot."

Peter moans, overwhelmed. He’s trembling on the edge, pain and pleasure warring through his body. His mouth moves but he can't form words, can only pant shallowly at the sheer size of Chris' knot, the inexorable pressure on his prostate that has his cock drooling, has him so close, so full - he can smell Chris's seed inside him, can feel the wet heat filling him up and he's completely lost in the sensation. 

Chris nips his teeth along Peter's jaw, leaving dark bruises that don't start healing right away. "Feel my come inside you, filling you up?"

Peter nods feebly, eyes rolling back in his head. His arms hang limply on his side and he lets Chris manhandle him, lets the ex-hunter pull him back, pull him up against his chest so he’s seated even deeper on that knot. 

"I've got you now. I'm gonna keep you like this, gonna keep you fucked out and full of my come. No more teasing, Peter. No more slutting it up in front of the kids, in front of Melissa and the Sheriff. You're my slut now. My bitch." Chris’s voice cuts past the heartbeat hammering in Peter’s ears, sends a shiver down his spine. 

With agonizing slowness, Chris reaches out and wraps his hand around Peter's neglected dick, calloused fingers rough and heedless of any discomfort as they catch on tender skin. He yanks once, twice and Peter is coming hard, ass clenching around Chris's knot as the wolf sobs out his release. 

"That's it, baby," Chris croons as he lets Peter fill his hand, lets the wolf sag back against his chest. "You're only gonna come on my knot from now on." With those words he lifts his hand up to Peter's lips

Peter whimpers when he starts messily licking his come off Chris's fingers, lips slack. 

"What's that? I didn't hear you," Chris says in warning tone, tightening his hold of Peter, pulling the wolf closer. 

Peter's eyes flutter open and he tilts his head back, trying not to whimper at the loss of Chris's fingers. Blue eyes meet blue in the darkness, but there’s a knowledge that cannot be avoided deep in Peter’s bones now. 

"Yes... Alpha"

**

They stay tied together for a long time, Chris goading another orgasm from Peter with harsh words and harsher hands, again making Peter lick his fingers clean. When his knot goes down, he pulls out with a nasty squelch, come dripping down Peter's ass. He uses his fingers to push it back in, tells Peter to be a good bitch and hold it all in. 

He can scent the arousal his words cause in Peter and he stifles a laugh. He'd always known Peter Hale needed to be brought down a peg or two, that the arrogance was just a veneer but he's delighting in just how easy it seems to be, how much the wolf hates himself for enjoying Chris's possession so thoroughly.

He holds Peter by the neck as he guides the wolf to his SUV, the beta almost tripping on the tattered remains of his jeans.

"You mess up the upholstery, I'm taking it out on your ass," he tells Peter as he shoves him into the seat.

It's a short drive and Chris pushes down the urge to pull Peter's head into his lap, to fuck into that pretty red mouth; he's not taking the risk yet, not when he still has only a tenuous grasp of his wolf abilities.

Peter stays put, eyes downcast as the car pulls into the underground garage. He only moves when Chris grabs him by the neck again, manhandles him through the door and inspects the leather seat with a critical eye; Peter tried to be good, tried to hold it all in but his ass still feels loose and open after Chris's brutal knotting and there's a droplet of smudged white on the black leather.

"Lick it up," the words are harsh and Peter falls down on his knees with ease, his Alpha's - fuck, Chris isn't an Alpha, his eyes are as blue as Peter's but he can't deny the pull, can't deny the need to obey - hold pressing his face into the leather. 

Peter licks at the stain, tastes Chris, tastes himself, his tongue is getting numb and dry by the time Chris lets him up, tugs him by the neck to follow him. Peter goes obediently, trying very hard to not think about how he's hard, how there's nothing to hide it from the ex-hunter. 

Peter half expects to be bent over a workbench but instead he's guided up the stairs, into the house proper; Argent tells him gruffly to leave his shoes at the door and leads him to the bedroom that looks deceptively innocent.

Chris enjoys the sight of Peter in his bedroom more than he anticipated as he commands the wolf to strip. He leans against the doorjamb and watches Peter's hands shake when they remove what's left of his jeans, when he pulls his bloody v-neck over his head and stands before Chris completely bare.

Chris gives him the kind of an once-over he hasn't had a chance to before, lets his eyes linger on the divots of his hips, his hard little nipples, the fat, heavy cock that's again grown hard.

"Get on the bed," he says, and Peter obeys, moving to lay face down and oh, that just won't do. "On your back."

Peter shivers when the hunter brings out the shackles; even though Argent is a wolf now, there's still that different predatory look to him, an ease at which the cuffs snap around Peter's wrists and ankles.

Of course there are fucking hooks in the headboard and the wall, of course.

Peter finds himself nearly bent in half, arms above his head, his legs lifted up and open. His thighs tremble as Argent starts to tighten the ropes, pulling Peter's knees down, nearly to his shoulders. He feels more exposed than he's ever been, his leaking hole bared to the hunter.

Chris tightens the last knot and steps back to admire his handiwork. Peter looks good like this, looks good tied up and splayed open for Chris to toy with, the black rope a stark relief against his flushed skin. Briefly Chris considers adding a collar, locking heavy metal over that thick neck, but he decides against it, the urge to _bite_ and mark too strong.

Chris doesn't take his eyes off the wolf as he unlaces his boots, sets them aside neatly with his socks rolled in them. He watches Peter tremble in anticipation, watches how hard Peter is still trying to obey his command to keep his come inside his ass.

Chris puts his hand inside his jacket and watches the wolf's eyes widen, scents the fear in the air. He fingers the butt of his gun, considers pulling it and making Peter suck on it for a while but he decides against it, going for the telescoping nightstick instead.

Peter doesn't relax when it comes in sight, and Chris remembers Allison telling him how she'd shocked the wolf with it, left him in a crumpled heap on the floor. Pity he hadn't been there to see it.

The sound of the baton extending has Peter flinching. The hunter's measured steps are soft on the carpet, the tap of the nightstick against his thigh a damning metronome that echoes in his ears.

"I told you there would be consequences," the hunter says, voice a low purr as he raises the baton, runs the tip over Peter's quivering belly.

Peter whines when the baton touches the tip of his cock, drags through the precome and down to his balls.

"I told you to keep all my come in your ass like a good little bitch, but what did you do? You got it all over my car. And now you're leaking all over the place.” 

The baton smacks against the back of his thigh and Peter yelps at the sting. His hole twitches as he tries to obey, tries to hold back the come still slicking his insides, but he knows it's too late.

"Sorry, Alpha," Peter whines, only for Argent to slap his thigh with an open palm, leaving a stinging red mark.

"Did I say you could speak?"

Peter bites back another apology, cranes his head to bare his neck in appeasement. He whines when Argent prods at his ass with the baton, presses the tip against the clenched muscle.

"You'd like that too much, wouldn't you?" Chris murmurs as he watches Peter's eyes dilate as pressure is applied to his hole. "You love being fucked, love having something in your ass. I could fuck you with my baton, fuck you with my gun and you'd just beg for more and to be allowed to come all over yourself like the needly little whore you are."

The sight of Peter's neck bared sings in Chris’s blood, makes his newfound instincts stronger; but Chris has spent all his life honing his self-control. He ruthlessly pushes aside the urge to crawl up the bed and bite and _take_ in favor of running the baton over Peter's thighs, over the sensitive skin at the back of his knees.

He ignores the way Peter whines, the way his hips twitch against the bonds, the hard cock bobbing against tight abs. Instead he taps the baton against Peter's nipples

"You love showing off your tits," he muses as he presses down and Peter whines and tries to shy away, unable to move from his bonds. "All those v-necks, just hoping for someone to reach out and touch, weren't you?"

Peter would look so pretty with piercings, he muses. Silver, of course, barbels with the Argent fleur-de-lys on them to mark him. Chris moves the baton to the other nipple and Peter's moan turns into words, a strangled please that could be him begging for it to stop or for more.

Chris doesn't bother reminding him not to speak; he thumbs the switch and watches Peter scream as the electricity arcs through him.

Peter screams and screams, body arching under the relentless agony; it feels like it goes on forever before it's turned off, giving him a moment of sweet relief before Argent belts him across the thighs, pain exploding at where the leather bites into his skin.

Peter doesn't get another reprieve; the belt comes down again and again, hard enough to break skin and draw blood. He is crying, tears in his eyes as he moans and screams when a particularly vicious hit grazes his balls, the end of the belt licking his inner thigh. Chris has mercifully avoided his sore hole but he knows it’s just a matter of time. 

"That's it. Good pup," Chris croons as he swings the belt, "taking your punishment so well." He wraps the belt around his hand and scents the air, scents the blood running in rivulets down Peter's thighs, over the bruised welts the belt has raised that are not healing, a sign of the sway Chris has over the beta. _His_ beta. 

The smell of blood rouses him, has his cock throb in his jeans. He picks up the baton again, enjoying the way Peter's eyes widen, the way his lips move in a pattern of denial. Chris bares his teeth as he touches the baton on Peter's stomach.

“You're going to take it all, aren't you? Be a good pup for your Alpha."

He watches fear and pain flit through Peter's blue eyes, wide and wet with tears as the wolf shivers all over, a sheen of sweat on his skin. He waits for a few heartbeats before Peter's quivering lips part, pink tongue flicking out to moisten them before he speaks in a hoarse voice.

"Yes, Alpha."

"Good boy." Chris presses the trigger, sending the wolf into another spasm of agony.

Peter feels like he's lost his sense of time, suspended between the bright points of pain from the electricity coursing through his body, twisting and arching in his bonds, and the pain of the leather cutting into his flesh, striping his thighs and ass and forcing a scream from him as it flicks against his nipples, leaving bruises behind.

Chris drinks up the noises Peter makes, the pained moans and cries, the way his body arches under the belt and the rod.

He slaps the baton across Peter's ass and Peter moans, voice weak and thready. He's covered in bruises and welts, his eyes losing focus as Chris raises the rod again, places it on a bruised nipple.

Chris's hands are shaking with adrenaline, with the need that's built up in him as he's laid into the wolf; the scent of blood is heavy in the air, makes his mouth itch with the need to drop his fangs, makes blood pound in his ears. He wants to _take._

Peter whimpers when the taser touches his abused nipple, sparking agony even before it's lit up; every fiber of his body hurts, but he wants to be good for the Alpha, wants to please his Alpha. He can take it, he can, he can -

He only realizes too late he's using words, talking without permission and fear curls up inside him.

"One more, Peter," Chris murmurs, breathing heavy. "One more for your Alpha."

He watches Peter close his eyes, mouth falling open in anticipation of the shock, of the pain, throat bared in abject submission.

Chris hits the trigger; Peter screams and screams as the volts arc through him.

Peter can't breathe when the electricity cuts off, when he hears the clatter of metal against wall; he's floating, every nerve-ending lit up with more than pain as his Alpha doles out his punishment.

Chris's hands shake when he ties to undo his fly, tries to get his cock out. His new claws come out and he hisses when they touch the skin, shred the heavy denim as he frees his aching erection. 

Peter's eyes are no longer focused at all, his body limp against the chains.

"Good pup," Chris whispers as he moves to kneel between Peter's spread legs, as he fights to pull back his claws so he can touch the quivering hole with his fingers, marvel at how the wolf's ass is red and bruised and hot under his touch.

Peter whines as Chris slides a finger inside him, still slick from earlier. He whimpers at the invasion but his hips bear down on anyway, the need to please his Alpha too strong; when one finger becomes two and hits his prostate he wails, back arching off the bed and cock stirring back to life.

"Please..." he can't bite back the words, can't bite back a plea. "Alpha..."

The supplication and need in Peter's words hit Chris hard and he growls deep in his chest. He doesn't care that Peter spoke out of turn, he only cares about getting his cock inside that tight, hot ass. He barely has the presence of mind to grab the lube sitting on the bedside table and squirt some on his hand so he can slick his cock and press the tip against Peter's swollen hole.

They both groan when Chris presses in, sliding balls deep with one stroke. He doesn't hold back, the urge to take, to fuck, to mate too strong to ignore, the need to mark Peter as his so thoroughly. 

Peter wails when he's taken, when he's fucked hard, the drag of Argent's heavy cock against his prostate offset by the way his hips press against the welts, flares of agony screaming along his skin.

"That's it, take it, take your Alpha," Chris groans as he thrusts into Peter, hands curling around the wolf's thick thighs hard enough to bruise. His words are slurred as he fights his fangs dropping, as he scents the blood his claws draw from Peter's legs, red rivulets dripping down.

This time he doesn't wait for Peter's words, doesn't wait for begging. He leans in to lick at the bared throat his beta is offering him, scrapes his fangs along the sweaty skin to draw another moan from Peter before he bites down hard.

Peter thought he had no breath left to scream, but his Alpha's teeth sinking into his neck makes him howl, makes him writhe against his bonds and beg for it, beg for his Alpha's claim.

Chris bites down, blood welling under his teeth as he thrusts deep into Peter's ass, as he chases his own orgasm. Peter's cock is hard between their bodies, the head leaving wet streaks against Chris's abs with each punishing thrust, the scent of sex and blood heavy in the air.

Chris pulls away from Peter's neck. He laps the wound with his tongue for a brief moment before he straightens up, changes the angle he's fucking Peter in and make the wolf's eyes roll back in his head.

"That's it, Peter," he croons. "Come for me, pup. Come on your Alpha's cock." He wants to feel the clench of Peter's ass, wants to feel his beta giving it up to him, milking his cock with his hole. 

Peter's never come like this, never come just from being fucked, he's always needed something on his cock, a hand, a mouth, _something_. But now, when it's his Alpha commanding him, his Alpha's cock hammering against his prostate sending sparks of pleasure curling into his spine, accompanied by the dull ache of the welts and bruises, Peter finds himself sobbing with need. His hips arch off the bed as his cock sputters against his belly, a wave of pleasure rolling through him at his Alpha's command.

Chris swears when Peter comes, the wolf's body like a vise around him, causing his hips to stutter, for him to stop hammering into Peter and just enjoy the rippling heat as Peter sobs out his release.

"Good boy," Chris murmurs as he starts to move again, as Peter goes limp underneath him, twitching and sensitive.

Peter whimpers as his Alpha uses him, as Chris plows into him hard and fast, building up momentum as he approaches his own orgasm. Peter knows he's about to get knotted, about to have his body used for his Alpha's pleasure, and it's almost enough to get him hard again through the exhaustion and lingering pain.

Chris moves again, braces his knee on the bed and thrusts forward. It changes the angle, gets him deeper. Peter whines, cock twitching and drooling against his belly and Chris grins, showing teeth. "That's it, take it. Just relax and let your Alpha use your ass."

Peter feels like he's floating as Chris picks up his pace, pistoning in and out of his body, stroking Peter's hole in a way that makes him feel like he's bursting, his cock wet and dripping despite being soft.

He feels the first stirrings of Chris's knot and he whimpers in anticipation, his Alpha picking up the pace, slamming into Peter brutally until he's coming, until he’s filling Peter's ass up in a rush of wet heat. 

The knot expands and Peter whines as his hole is stretched, as the relentless pressure has his cock drooling on his belly, his seed wrung out of him without the pleasure of an orgasm, only the pleasure of his Alpha. 

Chris groans as he comes, as he fills Peter's ass with his seed. He pants heavily as he leans forward to lick at Peter's neck, to lap at the sluggishly bleeding wounds his teeth left. He draws a noise from them both as his knot shifts inside Peter, the shift in angle and pressure sending another wave of pleasure through him.

"Good pup," he murmurs. "Taking my knot so well."

"Alpha," Peter whines and cranes his neck to give Chris better access, body boneless and weary. "Alpha."

Chris smiles and licks Peter's cheek. "That's right. Your Alpha."

They stay like this, with Chris pinning Peter down and milking him with the occasional nudge of his hips until his knot starts going down, until he can pull out of Peter with an obscene wet noise. He's gratified to see Peter tries to clench up, tries to keep the come inside him without being told to, but his body is too weak, his ass too loose from the prolonged pain and thorough fucking he's endured. Chris reassures the beta with a few words and Peter relaxes,as Chris starts to slowly undo the cuffs and ropes to let him free of his bonds. 

Peter groans when his legs are lowered, the muscles sore from being held in position for so long. He has to bite back a whimper of pain as his abused ass and thighs make contact with the bed, fresh pain shooting through his body. 

He lays there as his Alpha checks his wrists and ankles, inspects the ligature marks with the kind of professionalism that makes some part of Peter still quake with fear as deft fingers press against the insides of his wrists and trail over his thighs. 

Peter leans into the touch without thinking, biting back another whimper as Chris cards a hand through his sweaty hair and grips hard. 

Chris pulls Peter to his crotch and the wolf comes willingly, eagerly almost. “That's it, clean me up," Chris tells him. Then and only then does Peter start lapping at his cock to get it clean. 

"You took that so well," Chris murmurs as he cups Peter's face, as he runs his thumb over a tear-stained cheekbone.

"You're _mine_ now."


End file.
